Watching
by randomrandom
Summary: Spoiler for Dalek. I think this could be set after Boomtown, but it could be anytime, really. Jack and the Doctor's late night talks. Doctor angst.


Watching.

"Doctor?"

The older man turned, startled for a moment but otherwise calm as he took in Jack's presence.

"What're you doing? Couldn't sleep?"

He stared past Jack into the darkness that filled the corridor. "Don't sleep much. Don't need to."

"So you just… watch her, instead?"

"Did she tell you I killed her?" His eyes were fixed on Jack's now, piercing and cold.

Jack stared at him for a moment, stunned, and then shook his head, taking a step towards him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I left her trapped with a Dalek, alone. To die. It was down to me and I –"

"But she didn't die," he stated quietly.

The Doctor turned, wordlessly, and headed towards the kitchen. Jack wondered if he was supposed to follow or just go back to bed. But somehow, he found he couldn't turn back now.

* * *

"Here." He set a mug of tea down in front of the Doctor, and then took a seat opposite, taking a cautious sip from his own mug, and finding it too hot. He put it down and folded his hands before him, waiting for the Doctor to speak. The pale and harsh yellow lights cast an ugly glow over the scene, and Jack realised that the air was freezing. The silence stretched on.

"Do you love her?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Are you _in _love with her?"

"That's a human thing."

They were silent a few moments more, and then,"I'd die for her," he said bitterly. "Is that enough? Nearly did die for her…" he spoke now as if he was just talking to himself.

"So you killed her and then you died for her." Jack said softly. "And yet here you both are."

"Oh Jack, if only you knew," he whispered. Head in his hands, he stared down at the table, unable to meet the other man's gaze.

"Tell me."

"I'm not safe, Jack. I can't be trusted. Not with her; she's not safe with me." He stood suddenly, turning away from Jack and leaning against the counter. "All I've ever done… all I've ever done…"

Jack felt his heart twist painfully in his chest. The strength and enthusiasm, bright and commanding, had faded, leaving only guilt and fear and terrible pain. He stood also, tentatively placing his hands on the Doctor's shoulders, knowing he needed to help but unsure of how to go about it.

"Am I safe?"

"You can look after yourself. Rose…"

"I think she can look after herself too. Give her some credit."

"You don't understand."

"So explain it to me."

He turned, anger flashing momentarily over his face. Jack took a step back, but he held the Doctor's gaze, unintimidated.

"How can I? Everything I've done, everywhere I've gone it's just, death and grief and it's all wrong. Every page of my life, every page of my history has pain written all over it and now I've dragged her into it."

"Doctor…"

He sat back down at the table looking utterly defeated. And again, Jack mirrored his action, patiently taking his place across from him.

"Doctor, she understands. You have to give yourself a break. It's not as bad as you say –"

"You don't know."

"Maybe not, but I know you. I know you'd never hurt her if you could help it, I know you do your best, everyday, and I know that your best is so much better than anything anyone else could offer. We all do things we're not proud of, Doctor; it's how we learn. You're a master of time but you still haven't learnt the most important thing."

The Doctor looked up, one eyebrow raised and the very faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Stop living in the past. Your past, that is. Stop letting it cloud your future... Rose's future."

He nodded minutely, by no means reconciled with this, but calmed for the moment. He knew Jack was right, but it was a question of putting this into practise. He frowned suddenly.

"When did you get so philosophical?"

Jack leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Look, I know I'm not exactly a serious guy. I know that, and I don't really expect to be taken seriously most of the time, but you know, when I'm supposed to be messing around or messing up, I watch people. I watch you and I watch Rose and I can see that you're going to be okay. Both of you."

"Oh you think so, do you?" he asked, dryly. He looked so tired.

Jack grinned as he stood, and then hesitated before leaning down and placing his hand over the Doctors, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I know so."

He turned and headed towards the door, where he paused. "Now go to bed," he called back over his shoulder. "You look like hell."

He took another route back to his bedroom; he knew that the Doctor was no more likely to go to sleep than he was to get down on his knees and declare his undying love for Rose, although both, in Jack's opinion, were entirely necessary actions.

But he knew that at any point during the night, if he happened to pass her room again, there he'd be, the tall dark figure, leaning against the doorframe, watching over her.

* * *

What can I say? I have serious Captain Jack love, and I think there's more to him than meets the eye. I tried to stop this fic from being sappy, but I don't think I succeeded, heh. Oh well. 


End file.
